Sink your teeth into this addictive anthology of gorgeous Billionaires finding true love on the beach.
Billionaires on the Beach is a limited collection of stories from clean and wholesome authors.
Packed with adorable meet-cutes, swoon-worthy romance and so many happily ever afters, you’ll be left beaming ear to ear by the end.
This collection includes:
Forbidden romance
Secret Babies
Fake marriages
Second Chances
Enemies to lovers
Sun, sea and sand
And many heart-soaring dates!
This anthology is the perfect staycation for readers who enjoy sweet and clean Billionaire romances. Only available for a limited time. Scroll up and one click now to get started.

Benjamin’s smile turned to a look of horror as she waved her phone at him.
“I’ve followed you on Instagram.”
Benjamin dragged a hand through his messy hair and looked away with a sheepish smile.
“Ah. You found me, then.” He stooped down and picked Maggie up in his arms. She cuddled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Benjy,” she said in a baby voice. The sight made Krista melt inside.
“You were right. You are fun.”
And insanely sexy, she added silently with a smirk.
“Well, you might notice I haven’t posted for a month,” he pointed at her phone as he bobbed Maggie up and down. Krista got to her feet and patted the sand off her legs.
“Well, I’m sure your 1.2 million followers miss you. Let me take a picture of you with Maggie.”
Krista positioned her phone up to capture a picture of Benjamin stooping his head low against Maggie’s brow. She looked up at him with big eyes and her hand touched his cheek. The two of them were perfectly framed by the sunset and glowed dark against the ocean.
“Your followers will die when they see this.”

—

“My Real Life Time Out” by Rimmy London

“The way you navigate the world around you—the way you care for it. There’s something so genuine about you that makes me want to be more. I love being around you. Everything about you.”
He paused to take a shaky breath. “I just wanted to tell you now instead of pretending I didn’t feel anything…because I do.”
His gaze was tentative, vulnerable and so unusually insecure. He’d said the perfect words, all smothered in simmering glances like butter.

—

“I Never Told You” by Jessie Cal

Jess finally shoved the last piece of her s’more into her mouth. “I think it’s time to call it a night,” she said with her mouth full, and his heart ached a bit. Thoughts of holding her in his arms and watching the night sky flooded his mind, and he shook his head like shaking off a spell.
“Do you need help getting Bill’s grandkids in the tent?” he offered, standing with her.
“That would be great.” She squeezed his arm as a thankful gesture, and he forced himself to ignore the electricity that came with her touch. “If you can carry Zach, I’ll pick up little Cole.”
Even in the way she dragged her feet, he could tell she was tired. His mind suddenly conjured an image of him pulling her into a comforting embrace, but he pushed it aside.
After laying the last boy down inside the tent, he stepped out only to find himself standing in front of her again.
“Thank you.” She let out a tired sigh. “You must be exhausted.”
“I enjoyed every minute of it, though,” he said, flashing her a soft smile. “Minus the shark incident, of course.”
She blurted out a laugh then covered her mouth so as not to wake the kids. “Really? Cause that was the highlight of my day.”
“You’re mean.”
She stifled another laugh. “Good night, Logan.” She leaned in and wrapped him in a hug. Her hair smelled like salt water which was oddly comforting. When she pulled back, he grabbed her hand. He had no idea why, or what he would say. And she was looking at him, waiting for an explanation, but he didn’t have one. He simply wanted to hold her hand.
No, that wasn’t true. That wasn’t all he wanted.
He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her about all the crazy flutters he’d been feeling in the pit of his stomach all night, but then she looked down at their fingers laced together, and he no longer knew what to say. What was she thinking? Did she like the way it felt as much as he did? Should he just pull her into his arms and kiss her?
“I think being on this island is messing with our heads,” she whispered, slipping her hand out of his and pulling away. “Good night, Logan.”
And there was his heart again, racing at the sound of her saying his name. “Good night, Jess.”

Saturday, June 6, 2020

They thought they’d have it easy being monster elites, but these three best friends still have to deal with pop quizzes, crushes, and even worse…humans.
Frances Stein, Loralie Reaper, and Tsukiko Okami just want to play games and relax after their classes. Any hopes of chilling out, however, are destroyed when humans attack Monster Academy and try to use the students for ransom.
In order to defeat the humans and protect their fellow monsters, they must work side by side with their crushes without giving away their secrets. Of course, that would be a lot easier if they were able to stick together, but in a move that betrays insider knowledge, the BFFs are separated.
By tapping into their monstrous powers and working with their crushes, they will open their hearts and unlock abilities long thought dead. But will it be enough to save all of monster-kind? It’s going to be one hell of a year at Monster Academy.

Takumi bowed again. “Yes, sir.” He straightened and looked at me. “Are we providing a guard for Tsukiko?”
“No,” Grandfather and I said at the same time.
Grandfather gave me a glare, and I snapped my mouth closed. My tail swished behind me, but I quickly wrapped it around my leg.
“Not at this time,” Grandfather amended. “If the situation worsens before I am able to return and you believe she needs a guard, then assign one to her.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Even if she tries to argue,” Grandfather finished with fire in his eyes.
I closed my mouth and looked down at my shoes. Fine. I got it. I would just make sure that that did not happen.
Behind me, Loralie danced from foot to foot. “Grandfather?” she whispered.
I looked up and saw his lip twitch again. “You may go,” he whispered.
Faster than I had ever seen her move, Loralie cleared the distance between us and the hellhounds. The hounds surrounded her, rubbing their bodies on her and licking her face and hands. She cooed at them while scratching their ears and rubbing the bellies of the ones who had lain down.
The ferocious, black dogs had red eyes that reminded me of the fires of the Underworld, fur that resembled shadows and mist, and razor sharp teeth that could tear through flesh and bone with ease.
And Loralie loved them. As Death’s daughter, she was capable of controlling the hell hounds if needed, but she had such an affinity for them that they just did whatever she asked.
“How long will she do that?” Takumi asked.
“Give her at least thirty minutes,” Grandfather said. “She hasn’t seen hellhounds in several months. I’ll leave it to you, Takumi. Take care of my girls…and the rest of the students.”
He added that ending like he’d almost forgotten there were other kids here.

Author Bio:
Catherine Banks is a USA Today Bestselling fantasy author who writes in several fantasy subgenres under two pseudonyms. She began writing fiction at only four years old and finished her first full-length novel at the age of fifteen. She is married to her soulmate and best friend, Avery, who she has two amazing children with. After her full-time job, she reads books, plays video games, and watches anime shows and movies with her family to relax. Although she has lived in Northern California her entire life, she dreams of traveling around the world. Catherine is also C.E.O. of Turbo Kitten Industries™, a company with many hats including being a book publisher and Etsy store full of nerdy fun.

Interplanetary intrigue and romance combine in this electrifying finale to the Consortium Rebellion series.

As the youngest member of her High House, Catarina von Hasenberg is used to being underestimated, but her youth and flighty, bubbly personality mask a clever mind and stubborn determination. Her enemies, blind to her true strength, do not suspect that Cat is a spy—which makes her the perfect candidate to go undercover at a rival House’s summer retreat to gather intelligence on their recent treachery.

Cat’s overprotective older sister reluctantly agrees, but on one condition: Cat cannot go alone. Alexander Sterling, a quiet, gorgeous bodyguard, will accompany her, posing as her lover. After Cat tries, and fails, to ditch Alex, she grudgingly agrees, confident in her ability to manage him. After all, she’s never found a person she can’t manipulate.

But Alex proves more difficult—and more desirable—than Cat anticipated. When she’s attacked and nearly killed, she and Alex are forced to work together to figure out how deep the treason goes. With rumors of widespread assaults on Serenity raging, communications down, and the rest of her family trapped off-planet, Catarina must persuade Alex to return to Earth to expose the truth and finish this deadly battle once and for all.

Mercy Thompson, car mechanic and shapeshifter, faces a threat unlike any other in this thrilling entry in the #1 New York Times bestselling series.

I am Mercedes Athena Thompson Hauptman.
My only “superpowers” are that I turn into a thirty-five pound coyote and fix Volkswagens. But I have friends in odd places and a pack of werewolves at my back. It looks like I’m going to need them.

Centuries ago, the fae dwelt in Underhill–until she locked her doors against them. They left behind their great castles and troves of magical artifacts. They abandoned their prisoners and their pets. Without the fae to mind them, those creatures who remained behind roamed freely through Underhill wreaking havoc. Only the deadliest survived.

Now one of those prisoners has escaped. It can look like anyone, any creature it chooses. But if it bites you, it controls you. It lives for chaos and destruction. It can make you do anything–even kill the person you love the most. Now it is here, in the Tri-Cities. In my territory.

It won’t, can’t, remain.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Smoke Bitten by Patricia Briggs

Mercy is back in a heart-wrenching addition of the Mercy Thompson series. Do not get me wrong, this was one amazing read but from the start, you quickly learn all is not well between Mercy and Adam. I have to say this was a big concern for me that Briggs was messing with this dream and long-lasting pairing. I am leaving it to Brigg’s to know what works best for artistic creations...but, please don’t break something that was so masterfully already created.

That being said…

Mercy is facing a mystery monster that might have ties to Underhill. She must uncover the identity of this murderous creature before it not only destroys her but the people around her. I must admit trying to uncover the identity was exciting for me as a reader and kept me guessing till the very end.

Smoke Bitten is a fresh new direction with a wonderful mind-twisting mystery, heart-wrenching moments, and packed full of the characters we’ve all come to love.

I received this ARC copy of Smoke Bitten from Berkley Publishing Group - ACE. This is my honest and voluntary review. Smoke Bitten is set for publication on March 17, 2020.

Playing in bars for women and whiskey is not enough for Ethan Thorn. The charismatic and egotistical bad boy has big-time dreams of taking his band to superstar status.
This is his singular purpose, and whoever would try to impede or threaten that goal would be eradicated from his life. A serious relationship, or worse, falling in love, are things he could never explore. Success is his only option.
Music is the only thing he feels he could truly love, completely and fully. That is until an angel named Zoe Edwards makes him realize he’s been wrong this whole time.
Being the daughter of a Presbyterian pastor, prudence and abstinence from carnal pleasures have been installed in her. Getting involved with a self-absorbed, womanizing rock star would be morally negligent on Zoe’s part. But sometimes the heart needs what the mind can’t perceive.
After a night of extemporaneous passion, their lives are thrown into uncharted waters. Ethan can’t help but see that life is more than just living for himself and for music. He pledges his love to Zoe and vows to place her above all else.
When you are rocked by love, all you can do is roll with it…but will swimming against the current be too much for them to handle?

Ethan could taste that something special was cooking in the air, a life-altering aroma that filtered throughout the smoked-filled bar. He could sense the exuberance that had the crowd fully charged and pumped up, willing and ready to surrender to the tyranny of the verve of the band. The wall of sound that reverberated from the stage was infusing an electric energy throughout The Black Dive, pulsating and surging through the dancing bodies of the participants.
While he looked intently at the moderate but faithful crowd in front of him, Ethan lifted up his fist slowly in the air and placed his left foot on the stage monitor. He shouted out to the crowd over the blaring instruments, “What’s up, my fellow rock-n- rollers? Are you lathered up and ready to let the bodies hit the floor?”
The ardent, fiery audience responded with a loud roar to confirm their assent, and their appetite for wreckage and mayhem. He knew he had them right where he wanted them, feigning and hungering for something dangerous, something raw, something real, and he was about to give them a full load of it.
He retaliated by screaming out, “Looks like we’re going to get into some trouble tonight! Who’s all down with that?”
“We are!” the crowd responded in unison.
“Well, let the chaos begin—let’s go!”

Author Bio:
Rob Jones is an author, musician, and poet. He enjoys going to church, reading, working out, and getting lost in a movie. If he is not writing books and performing music, you can find him spending valuable time with his wife and family.

It began with a blood oath.It ended in bloodshed.
When twenty-one-year-old Lyric is told by her father, Gabrian, she will be crossing into the Otherland as payment for a favor he owes the Shadow Lord, she thinks her life is over. In truth, it is just beginning. Years of training as a soldier and an uncanny ability to learn pretty much anything give Lyric the tools she needs to survive her new reality—and it totally helps that her new lord and master is sex incarnate.
Draven has long awaited Lyric’s arrival, and not just because he needs her to track a powerful weapon stolen by an unknown adversary. He believes he has everything firmly in hand, despite the subterfuge he foolishly agreed to some twenty years back. When Draven’s enemies and lies of omission both threaten the fragile bond he and Lyric are forming, he refuses to allow anything to stand in the way, not even the razor-sharp blade of Lyric’s favorite sword.WARNING: This novel contains tons of bad language, the occasional smackdown, and a good deal of inappropriate humor–sometimes all at once.

Draven was waiting for me in the hall when I exited my quarters. Something about the way he was casually leaning against the stone, with his arms and legs crossed, made him look especially yummy.
His nostrils flared right as his silver eyes took on an ethereal glow. I turned into a startled rabbit, frozen in his high beams. The oxygen between us heated, increasing in weight. Suddenly I felt hot, my mouth dry.
“I know how we can wet it,” he rumbled, pushing off the wall and crowding my personal space.Stupid shield!
In my defense, it was hard to concentrate on anything when Draven was looking at me like he was about to eat me alive.
“Do you have any idea what you did to me out there?” he accused.
“I didn’t do anything to you.”
Draven grabbed my hand and flattened it on his crotch. My fingers reflexively squeezed, like they had a mind of their own. A dirty, naughty, whorish little mind of their own. A thrill shot through me and my adrenaline kicked in.Well, hello there, nipples. Are you trying to tear through my shirt? Looks like.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to watch you best them again and again, but that’s exactly what you’ll do, isn’t it, Angel?”
“You—you liked that? It was just me losing my temper.”Squeeze.
I was somebody else at that moment. Someone whose hand had no problem fondling big packages.
“No, it was so much more,” Draven contended.Squeeze.
This time he released a satisfying exhale. I was affecting him. I liked—scratch that—I loved how I was affecting him. I felt powerful. Desired.
Despite any misgivings over the Shadow Lord’s intentions, I wanted him with an irrational craving bordering on obsession. I wanted this male I hardly knew. Wanted him enough that I was standing in the hallway, after getting pissed on by a gargoyle, stroking him through his leathers.
We were having a conversation about what I did on the archery range while I was giving him a handy. Damn if I could get my stupid fingers to let go. I knew Draven wanted me. I didn’t understand it, but he’d made it very clear. The proof was throbbing in my palm.
The question was, what was I going to do about it? Probably what I always did when someone pushed me. I was going to push back.
“Did you follow me up here for a quickie, Draven?”Ohmysweetjesus, I seriously just said that out loud. Another person was inhabiting my body. Probably a prostitute’s ghost.
“What would you do if I said yes?”
My heart sped up, thinking of the answer, picturing it vividly in my head.
“Shield, Lyric. My control around you is tenuous at best, and the images you’re projecting are telling me you’d be more than okay with me locking us up in your room for a few hours while I take up residence in the cradle of your thighs.”
I bit my lip, which I guess was code for go ahead and do me because Draven had me pinned to the wall with my legs around his waist faster than I could blink. So distracted by this exalted male, I hardly noticed the discomfort of my swords getting sandwiched between my back and the cool stone.
“Maybe just a taste, then,” he bade, his mouth so close to mine I was breathing his exhale.
I waited, then quickly realized he was waiting for me to decide. My sensitized skin felt tight. My core ached. I hungered. Gods, how I hungered.
These stirrings had always been dormant in me. One second in Draven’s orbit had awoken the carnal side of my being, the demon side which should have always had an appetite for pleasures of the flesh.
Mateus and the other demons in our clan had no issue finding a warm body for just a night. Getting naked with the humans whose names they’d not remember was commonplace.
I’d grown into adulthood believing I was lacking in this, convinced my halfling chromosomes had dampened those instincts. I had lived in the presence of hundreds of males my entire life and not one of them made me feel any amount of sexual desire, not even Mateus. Only Draven made me feel this way and had since the second I’d stepped into his world.
“Lyric,” he growled.
I involuntarily tilted my pelvis, groaning at the faintest touch of sweet friction. Draven shook, holding himself in check. For me. He was holding back for me.
It was heady stuff having any sort of power over the biggest and baddest Shadow in the land.
My soul pushed energies out and when his magics pushed back, I was lost. I could no more stop this than I could stop a rising tide.
My hands flew to his hair, grabbing two fistfuls. I yanked him the rest of the distance, holding him to me, unable to get close enough.
Unlike our first kiss, this one was raw. Primal. All teeth and tongue and desperation. I loved it. Locking my legs behind his back, I ground against him.
“Fuck, Lyric.”
His curse added to my impulse to behave badly. I’d bet he was a dirty talker in bed. Not that I had much experience with that, but I did have satellite television in my room back home. One can learn a lot from soft porn.
“Have to … make you … come,” he gritted between kisses.Oh, yes, please!
Draven’s mouth drifted down the column of my throat. He kept one hand under my ass and the other slid under my shirt, then under my sports bra. I threw my head back when he reached my nipple, pinching and pulling. All the while he continuously rolled his hips into me.
Shadows started moving around us. Just like in my dreams, they slithered against my limbs, humming with vibrations. I froze.
“Draven?”
“Shh. It’s just me,” he whispered, licking my collarbone. “I need your mouth, but I want to taste and touch you everywhere. Let me show you how I can do both.”
“Uh—”
His lips were on mine again, the tendrils of darkness taking over his scorching kisses below my ear and down my neck. The maelstrom of sensations obliterated any hesitation I might have had. It was like there were three Dravens making out with me against the wall.
He dropped his other hand back to my rear. Magics skated under my clothing, across my breasts, feeling like electric fingers.
When he started lifting me up and down against his rigid cock, I moaned. The movement was chafing, holding me in that narrow space between pleasure and pain. That foreign storm, the one I’d only ever experienced in my dreams where a shadowy figure played my body like a master, built with the force of a tsunami.
Electric currents slithered down my abdomen, under my pants, and settled atop my clit. Holy fucking shit. They increased in intensity, alternating with his jerking hips. Every part of me was covered in his essence.
The only place he wasn’t was the one place I knew we both wanted him to be. Conjuring the image of Draven moving inside me, imagining his weight pinning me down as he thrust between my legs, the dam finally broke.
I cried out in pleasured shock, unable to hold it in. On and on it went with those electric currents prolonging my ecstasy until I was nothing more than a drooping form Draven had to hold upright.
My body went limp, my head dropping to his shoulder. He was still hard and I wondered if we should do something about that, though, maybe not out here in the hall.
Draven kissed my neck then straightened. Pulling gently on my hair, he tilted my head enough to see my face.
“You’re exactly as I knew you’d be,” he said.
“How’s that?” I puffed, still somewhat winded.
“Passionate. Wild. A force to be reckoned with.”
I blushed hard. Make-out session against wall? No problem. Complement from the Shadow Lord? Total embarrassment.
“Yes, well, you’re nothing like I thought. None of this is, aside from the atmospheric differences.”
“What did you think I’d be?”
“Cold. Scary. Murdery.”
He fought a smile. “I’m not sure murdery is a word, but I can be—and often am—all three. Though, not to you, Lyric. Never to you.”
Emotions rolled through me, plucking a haunting tune on my heartstrings. I wasn’t sure I was ready to identify what I was feeling.
He spoke to me as he might speak to a lover. He showed care for me, concern even. He’d fucking bought me a set of katanas and a personalized flask, things I’d treasure far more than any gift of flowers or jewelry.
“Draven …”
His lips pressed softly to mine. I knew my shield had been annihilated, so he was catching everything. It was grossly unfair.
“It’s okay, Angel. This was all I needed, for now. You come beautifully, by the way.”
If I flushed any further, I was going to have an aneurism.
Draven lowered me to my feet, brushing back the stray hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail during our hallway tryst.
“You might want to shower and change again, unless you want everyone to know what we were doing.”
“They’ll still catch traces, anyway, won’t they?”
“Probably.”
Lamerson’s words about my worth got stuck on repeat in my mind. “I don’t want them to think I’m, that I’m …”
“That you’re what?”
“That that’s why I’m here, all I’m good for.”
I waited for the regret to seep through my pores. When it didn’t, I chalked it up to the endorphins still pumping through me. Surely, I’d regret this by morning.
Draven pushed open my door and nudged me inside. “Then go rinse off, get dressed, return to the training area, and kick someone’s ass.”
Oh, gods. Draven got me. He sooo got me. How could I possibly keep my panties dry when the Shadow Lord was over there getting me?
I was in over my head.

Author Bio:
C.A. Worley is the alter-ego of Romance Author Cass Alexander. Where Cass tends to focus on humor in her publications, C.A. loves to write fantasy. She chose to write under the two different monikers so as to not confuse (or tick off) her readers.
C.A. currently resides in the Midwest, but was born and raised in the South. She spends her days working from home and her evenings are spent shuttling her kids to and fro. Her dinners are subpar, but she makes a mean dessert.
When she's tired of living her sons' travel sports schedules, C.A. enjoys a glass (or four) of wine. She needs the liquid courage to click the publish button for her fantasy romance novels.
Her motto is, "Be Brave," and she tries to live it every day. It takes a healthy dose of courage to get through this thing we call life.

He never expects to find her there…
Officer Quinten Blackthorne is working undercover to bring the Rudnikov Mob Empire to its knees. He never expects to find his best friend’s baby sister, Becca, in the center of a powder keg situation at the infamous mobster’s home. With her life on the line, he does the only thing he can think of to save her – he pretends that she’s his fiancée, who knows nothing of his clandestine activities with the criminal enterprise, and stands as her stalwart protector.Forced into marriage…
But Quinten never expects the mob boss to force them into marriage at gunpoint as a test of loyalty. Not to mention, the idea of her belonging to him isn’t unappealing, nor is he as averse to the prospect as he lets on. Becca, with her sweet curves and take no prisoners attitude, fascinates him, stirs him, and leaves him craving her submission. Yet his past is fraught with broken dreams and death, so he uses his friendship with her brother as a shield against his yearning to claim her as his own.Resistance is futile…
However, circumstances soon compel Becca and Quinten to become the most unlikely allies in a deadly game of deception. Now they must depend on one another for survival. As they race to unlock the keys to breaking the case, will Quinten be able to maintain his hands-off policy with Becca? Or will he surrender to the earth-shattering passion and turn their marriage of convenience into the real deal?
Publisher’s Note: This steamy friends to lovers romance contains elements of power exchange. While it’s the third in the Crescent City Kings series, it can be enjoyed independently.

Becca searched for a potential exit. Guards were stationed in groups of two at doorways and stairwells, each guy more terrifying than the next, with hard faces that probably wouldn’t blink if she was shot dead where she stood. The further into the mansion she trod, the more Becca felt like she was heading to her own funeral. Bile threatened in the back of her throat. She hated that a part of her was impressed by the interior of the home because of the artwork on display. The paintings and sculptures were museum quality. If she wasn’t mistaken, they passed an original Renoir.
The heels of Becca’s black leather boots clicked against the hardwood flooring. Her heart thumped in time with those clicks, like a ticking clock winding down to zero. Konrad and company ushered her up a grand staircase that made the one in Gone with the Wind look cheap and insignificant. At the top, they steered her to the right, down a wide hall with glossy hardwood floors and high ceilings.
When they reached the end of the hall, the two henchmen who had joined them opened a pair of double doors that must have belonged to a Buddhist temple at one time. Becca’s clasped hands shook as she entered what amounted to a sitting room parlor with an enormous ivory marble hearth. The fire inside intended to ward off the chilly night couldn’t make the cold terror in her bones dissipate. Every piece of furniture and décor in the parlor spoke of wealth. There was a Louis XIV desk in one corner. But the room held all the warmth of a mausoleum.
“Have a seat. The boss will be with you shortly,” Konrad indicated in a bullish tone and pointed toward the chocolate Chesterfield sofas while his buddies shut the doors with a resounding thud and sealed them all inside. Sealed Becca inside. She assessed the room. Floor-to-ceiling inlaid shelves held first editions behind panes of glass. There was a vase on a pedestal that looked to be from the Ming Dynasty, or was at least an excellent reproduction. She studied her surroundings for a potential avenue of escape. The only way out would be to jump from the large crenelated windows. Two stories up, she could break something—like her neck. Only three guards were present in the room, odds that weren’t great, but left her a fighting chance.
Konrad shifted his hand to the butt of his gun until she finally complied with his order. Even if she escaped past Konrad and his two buddies, jumped out the window and didn’t break anything when she landed, the boatload of guards stationed over the grounds were far too numerous to outrun. The odds were not in her favor in making it to the gate and beyond for help.
Becca said a silent prayer at the echoing clomp of multiple footsteps approaching. Her anxiety ratcheted up to cataclysmic levels.
The double doors swung inward. Becca wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t a relatively trim man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in gray tweed slacks and a button up navy cardigan sweater over his ivory dress shirt. He looked much more like a history professor than a criminal mastermind—at least, until you looked into his eyes. They were cold, devoid of any humanity or warmth, and calculating. Rudnikov assessed her from head to toe as she rose. That stare made her feel underdressed in her jeans and Kelly-green chenille sweater. A sense of helplessness invaded her soul. The uncertainty infused by doubt that she would live through the next hour.
Rudnikov didn’t travel alone. He had four of his paid thugs guarding him. Becca skimmed her gaze over them. They were all similar in manner and form to Konrad, as if they had come off an assembly line. But it was the last man her gaze landed on who brought her up short. She kept her jaw from dropping to the floor, but just barely.
Quinten Blackthorne was a member of Anton Rudnikov’s mob team? What the hell?

Author Bio:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

She’s been fooled before by sweet words and hot kisses
Kelly Turner loves being a florist, and being asked to take the lead on the new site for the town’s festival is an honor. If only she didn’t have to work closely with the town player, Tate Prentice. After being burned once by a serial cheater, her inconvenient attraction toward Tate needs to be nipped in the bud.
Tate Prentice’s focus is on ensuring his father recovers fully from his stroke and making sure the family’s peach farm continues to thrive. When his brother nominates the farm to be the satellite site for the festival, he’s less than impressed. The only good thing is he’ll be working with Kelly – even though he knows she’ll never give him a second glance, not with his reputation.
The more time Kelly spends with Tate, the more she sees the man behind the reputation. Can she trust her instincts, or will her heart be broken once again?

Outside, the sounds of summer surrounded them. Crick- ets trilled, calling for company. A light veil of humidity hung in the air, not quite stifling yet. Come July and August, humidity would be heavy and unpleasant. Hopefully, Mother Nature would play nice for Founders’ Day and make the days and evenings pleasant.
“Where did you park your car?” he asked.
“Behind the shop.”
“Okay.” Tate headed in that direction, aware that he still had his arm around Kelly’s shoulders. Interesting. Why hadn’t she shaken him off? Not that he was complaining. She fit snugly, and he could get used to it.
A second later, she took a step to the right and his arm slipped to his side. The universe liked to give and then take away from him pretty quickly.
“You don’t have to walk me to my car, Tate. I’m a big girl and can get there by myself. The town is safe.”
He shoved his hands in his pocket to stop from reaching for her again. “I’m aware of that, but Dad would box my ears if he knew I’d let you walk alone after spending the evening with you.”
“Ahh, the gentlemanly gestures. It’s kind of sad they’re dying out.”
“You sound like you don’t want that to happen. You do know you just told me I didn’t have to do one of those gentlemanly gestures with dinner.”
She shrugged. “I have mixed feelings. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m an independent business owner. I’m in charge of my own life. And I love that, but when I listen to Mom talk about the early days of her and Dad’s courtship, it kind of makes me sad that some of those traditions are being lost. Some days, I’d like to experience it, and other days I don’t.”
Tate itched to rest his arm on her lower back as they walked down the darkened alley by her shop. Would this be one of those gestures she wanted? He compromised and raised his hand to her lower back, not touching but close enough that he could if she needed it. “I’m sure in time a balance will be struck that will please everyone.”
“I hope so,” she murmured as they stopped by her car, unlocking it. The flashing lights brightened the night for a heartbeat.
Deciding to risk it, he leaned around her and opened the door for her. “I had a really nice evening tonight, Kel. Thanks for asking me to join you.”
She looked up at him, the action bringing her face closer to his. In the muted glow from the only light in the parking lot, he caught the way her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Tate bit back a groan. Memories from earlier in the day when he’d been tempted to kiss her in his kitchen slammed into him. His blood heated and his lower body tightened in his jeans.
He didn’t miss the increase in her breathing. “Kel?” he asked, sure of what he wanted but not wanting to assume she wanted the same thing.
“Tate,” she whispered and swayed a fraction toward him.
He rested his hand on her hip and lowered his head, keeping his eyes open. If she pulled back, he would give her space. Only she raised her face and their lips met.

Author Bio:
USA Today Bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than taking characters and creating unique situations where they fight to find their true love.
On her first school report her teacher noted "Nicole likes to tell her own stories". It wasn’t until after the birth of her first child and after having fun on a romance community forum that she finally decided to take the plunge and write a book.
Apart from writing Nicole is busy looking after her very own hero – her wonderfully supportive husband, and two fabulous kids. She also enjoys watching sports and, of course, reading.